


he is something

by naktoms



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - All In, M/M, im so over this emo bullshit it doesnt include the bathtub scene, kinda minhyuk centric, warnings for self harm and abuse mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6899341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naktoms/pseuds/naktoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a game, at first.<br/>(Hyungwon changes it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	he is something

**Author's Note:**

> this is so all over the place and weird and i just had a lot of feelings that needed to be leT OUT  
> i was like "yall already got the emo ass bathtub scene covered u dont need me" and i JUST!! WANTED THEM TO CUDDLE AND HUG AND BE OKAY FOR 2 SECONDS OKAY GUYS 2 SECONDS so here we go
> 
> kudos + comments are appreciated!! i hope u enjoy!!

****It’s a game, at first.

Eat the flower, watch the way it lights up your veins and feel the way your head buzzes. There are bets (“Bet you can’t eat five of these, Jooheon!” “Damn right I can!”) and there are competitions (“First one to bring back a full bouquet wins!”) but it is still harmless, nothing. Nothing but stupid kids and their stupid flowers from the woods outside of town.

Then, something happens. Hyungwon happens, to be more precise- new kid, from out of town, with bruises on his face and a split lip the first time he approaches them. He looks too thin, bones pressing against his skin.

They offer a petal, just to try. Hyungwon’s bruises disappear. They offer a blossom. Hyungwon’s lip heals.

It could be that none of them bothered to keep stock of their injuries, falling off of walls and punching each other playfully too much to keep count and notice if they went away. But they certainly see it, plain as day, as Hyungwon sits across from them running his tongue along his bottom lip.

“Huh,” is all Hyungwon has to say.

Huh indeed.

 

Hyungwon changes things beyond just adding another use to their magical blue flowers. He has some kind of vindictive fire burning inside him, manifesting itself in reckless carelessness. He cuts his hands on glass and doesn’t notice, presses knives against his fingertips to check their sharpness, walks boldly past soldiers in the streets. Maybe it’s because he knows his problems can go away with one sweet petal.

None of them are sure what to think. Hyungwon has a strict father, so he can’t stay out late with them lest he show up with blackened eyes and twisted joints. They talk about him when he’s gone.

“He’s kinda scary,” Jooheon remarks, rolling a bare stem between his fingers idly. “I mean, even we don’t fuck with the soldiers. It’s like he wants to die or something.”

“Maybe he does,” Kihyun says simply. They fall silent.

 

After a few months, the others warm up to Hyungwon. Minhyuk remains distant, not because he doesn’t like him; it’s because he doesn’t like what Hyungwon does, feels his stomach roll when he sees Hyungwon cut into his wrists, averts his eyes when Hyungwon looks at him.

There is one day where they’re all walking down the street together and they see soldiers shutting down a roadside shop. The government provides goods, and any independence shown by the common people must be stopped.

Changkyun is the one who starts it. He shouts, waving his arms, and the soldiers glance at him. Jooheon follows his lead, diverting attention long enough for the shop owners to pack up and flee. Minhyuk finds himself hesitant, standing back while the others converge upon the soldiers, fixing them with empty threats and challenges. The soldiers do nothing but stand there, following protocol.

The soldiers leave after a few minutes, marching down the street past them. The others yell after them for a bit, but eventually they all continue on their way. But, later that day, Minhyuk finds himself not so distant anymore.

It is well known amongst them that Hyungwon’s father is not the most stunning individual. He is a harsh man with sharp features and a loud voice, and they are always loathe to see him because they know he will, no doubt, have something to say to Hyungwon.

Today, Hyungwon’s father has heard what the group did. Harassing soldiers is a capital offense, punishable by death or, worse, torture. He walks down the street with some of his associates and his eyes fall on them, scanning until he finds Hyungwon.

Minhyuk tunes the one-sided shouting match out, but he hears the slap and definitely sees the red streak across Hyungwon’s cheek. A bruise will most likely develop later. It twists Minhyuk’s heart in the worst ways.

Minhyuk gets the feeling that Hyungwon always feels sort of awkward after his father disturbs them with words or violence. Hyungwon always walks a little bit behind them afterwards, and Minhyuk has never made a real effort to make him feel included. This time, he does.

“Are you okay?” Minhyuk asks quietly. Hyungwon glances at him, face emotionless, and he stays silent. Minhyuk does too.

“I’m fine,” Hyungwon says after a long while, and it occurs to Minhyuk that he’s never heard him speak clearly. He rarely does, the younger members dominating conversation when they’re in their hideout, but beyond that Minhyuk has only heard him mumble or hum. His voice is pleasant.

Later, Hyungwon says thank you, and Minhyuk doesn’t ask why. He smiles, instead, and Hyungwon does too.

 

So, something changes. Hyungwon sits beside Minhyuk now. He stops hurting himself and Minhyuk thinks it might be for his benefit, not Hyungwon’s.

The flowers are growing scarce after nearly a year and a half of constant cultivation, so they decide to cook them down into some kind of elixir, as if they’re a coven of witches or something. It’s simple: crush the petals, boil it in water, strain it, put it into glass bottles. Everyone gets one vial to use however they please.

Minhyuk thinks it’s a rather genius idea, but it gives him the dilemma of _what will he ever use it for_. Certainly, the uses are obvious and maybe even endless, but he feels like he should keep it safe, hidden, save it for something. What that something is, he’s not sure of.

(But, of course that something turns out to be Hyungwon- Hyungwon hiding his face beneath a mask, thick scabs clinging to his lips and horrible bruising across his cheeks from a broken nose, Hyungwon’s lip quivering when Minhyuk sits in front of him and takes his vial out, gets some on his fingers and wipes it across his wounds. Hyungwon crying when the scabs smooth out to lightly scarred skin beneath Minhyuk’s fingers.)

(Minhyuk doesn’t think he really minds.)

 

Minhyuk holds Hyungwon’s hand and tells him he loves him. Hyungwon takes a moment to respond, as with most things, like he’s learned to consider words before he says them.

Hyungwon blinks slowly, one two, takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

It stings, a little bit. Minhyuk at least expected a smile, some kind of hesitant gratefulness- but maybe that’s selfish. Maybe he’s spread the savior label over himself without meaning to.

He stays quiet and holds Hyungwon’s hand tighter.

Minhyuk says it again a couple days later, says it again the following week, says it into Hyungwon’s shoulder when they hug. (And he hopes says it with his hands when he wipes away tears and brushes his hands through Hyungwon’s hair, hopes he says it with his eyes when he looks at Hyungwon and smiles, hopes that Hyungwon goes home at night knowing someone cares about him.)

Hyungwon doesn’t say it until months after, and it’s quiet, soft like Hyungwon is. Minhyuk folds him into his arms and says _okay_.


End file.
